


Silk Collars

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's always had a bad choice in men, and Tony decides it's about time that he interfere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk Collars

**Author's Note:**

> For a Tumblr Anon's prompt, "so, Clint had some bad tastes in men, before he met Tony. He's got few asshole ex-boyfriends, the last one being the worst. Tony doesn't like this." There are light mentions of BDSM, but... I don't think it's anything bad >>

“Get out.”

 

Tony’s voice is cold, sharp like the edge of a knife. Clint doesn’t move as the grip in his hair tightens. The grip pulls and Clint scrambles on the floor to crawl as he’s forced to move, and Tony’s icy voice slices the air again. “No, leave Clint here. You get out.” The grip on his hair tightens even more and Clint lets out a whimper. Tony’s voice drops to subzero. “Let go of him or I’ll have JARVIS cut your wrist off.”

 

The grip on his hair doesn’t loosen and Clint stays stock-still. He doesn’t doubt Tony will follow through with his threat. He pleads softly, but it’s lost behind the gag, and the grip in his hair tightens before he’s thrown to the floor, and a foot lands on the back of his neck. His entire body stiffens.

 

Things happen really fast after that. Tony barks an order at JARVIS that Clint doesn’t really hear, there is a lot of fighting and sound of fists and metal hitting each other before there is a slide of elevator doors and a thud of a body hitting the floor. Clint dares to open his eyes and finds Tony spitting blood onto the marble floor. He tries to sit up straight, but the ropes around his ankles and wrists make him near impossible.

 

Tony is a few feet away, spitting blood as he walks nearby. There is a light clink on the marble at the third spit, and Tony lets out a low curse. Clint sees the white tooth bouncing on the marble before coming to a rolling stop. JARVIS cleans up as Tony spits and makes a dentist’s appointment. Tony kneels and he silently cuts Clint free. Clint sits up, rubbing his red-chafed wrists. His ankles are bleeding. Tony stares at him for a long while. “JARVIS, get me the first aid kit. Clint, get on the bed. The floor’s cold.”

 

Clint obeys quietly. He lets Tony ease out the toy inside him and hears Tony curse. “Clint.” Tony says, and Clint says nothing. He can’t, because Tony hasn’t untied his gag yet and he hasn’t bothered. “BDSM play is supposed to be consensual for both of you. And it’s not supposed to make you bleed like this, and he’s not supposed to fucking come inside like this. Did you check if he’s clean?”

 

Clint hasn’t. He shakes his head, and Tony curses again. But Tony’s hands are gentle as he wipes away the blood and the semen from his legs, and Clint stays still. Tony undoes his gag and curses when Clint chokes on the length of it. Both sex toys go in the trash chute, where it’ll get crushed and burned by JARVIS. Tony tells JARVIS to run a scan on the towel with Clint’s blood and the guy’s semen in it. Clint is pretty sure the guy’s clean, and he doesn’t really know what do to if the scans come back and he has something. “Why do you do this to yourself?” Tony whispers, and Clint doesn’t answer. “You’re not allowed to see him again, you realize that, right?” Clint nods quietly. “And you’re not allowed to date anyone else until Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Thor and I have all met him at least once and Coulson and Natasha and I run a background check on them.”

 

Tony has expected some kind of resistance, but Clint only nods obediently. It causes Tony to stop cleaning Clint out and slathering ointment all over the place. He helps Clint sit up properly. “Clint.” He speaks softly. “Talk to me. Why are you letting them do this to you?” Clint remains quiet, and Tony stares. “Clint.” His voice is a little sterner this time, and Clint frowns, but says nothing again. Tony doesn’t press – it’s not the right time, anyway.

 

By the end of his ministrations, Clint looks peacefully asleep. Almost. Tony bends close to see the slight crease between his eyebrows, and there’s a small hitch to his breath when he inhales. Tony frowns and then grips Clint’s forearms, careful of his chafed wrists, and Clint’s brows ease. Tony sighs. “So that’s what it is.” He says softly, to himself. “JARVIS, get me more bandages. And get me some long, narrow pieces of silk.”

 

JARVIS complies in moments. Tony first bandages Clint’s chafed wrists and ankles, and then pulls the pieces of silk around Clint’s wrists to tie them firmly but not so much that they’d hurt anything. He reaches over and pulls off the leather collar around Clint’s throat. He stares at the bruise that it leaves behind and wonders if he can get press charges against this bastard, and gently loops another piece of silk around where the leather used to be. “JARVIS. How’d the test results come out?”

 

“ _Clean, sir. Both the man and Agent Barton.”_

Tony nods in acknowledgement and looks back down at Clint. The archer is completely relaxed now, and his breathing is completely even. Tony stares at Clint for a long while before telling JARVIS to dial Coulson. Coulson picks up after four and a half rings. [What do you want, Stark? I’m a busy man.]

 

“How long have you been Clint’s handler?” Tony doesn’t bother greeting the agent.

 

He can hear the frown in Coulson’s voice. [That’s classified information.]

 

“Seriously? I can’t even know _that_? You realize that I can just go through his files, right? But fine, tell me this, then. You’ve been his handler for a long time.” Coulson makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds like agreement. “He’s had shitty boyfriends, hasn’t he? And don’t lie to me, I just kicked one out and patched the birdie up.”

 

There’s a silence at the end of the line, and then Coulson speaks up. [It’s a way for him to cope with the stress. Romanoff copes it with it by being overwhelmingly dominant to her sex partners. Barton deals with it by finding men who will sexually and physically dominate him. Most of the men he finds, however, tend to be assholes who take advantage of Barton’s willingness.]

 

“Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

 

[Stark, are we talking about the same Barton? Do you honestly believe anything I say or do will have any effect on any of his actions? I have personally gotten two of his past boyfriends arrested after they broke Barton’s clavicle during violent copulation. After I did that, he started to sneak around.] Coulson sounds tense, snappy. Tony knows that’s the way he sounds when he’s worried about Clint. [..How is he?]

 

Tony turns to look at Clint. He’s sleeping peacefully, the silk around his wrist and throat. “Were you aware Clint has a submission complex?” There’s a silence, and Tony’s eyes narrow. “Okay, let me rephrase my question. Did you ever provide Clint with a way to ease Clint from his need to be dominated?”

 

Coulson sighs. [When he’s on a mission, sometimes it’s easier for me to provide the outlet for him so he could be more focused, less stressed.]

 

“I doubt you ever hurt him, so why didn’t you just continue being his dominant?”

 

[He didn’t feel comfortable with me because I wasn’t comfortable performing it.]

 

“So you let him go to guys who hurt him this badly?” Tony’s voice was sharp, and Coulson sighed. They stayed in silence before Tony let out a frustrated sigh. “Ugh, listen, I’m just pissed because he’s doing this to himself. But I’ve made a decision, and I need you to do me a favor. Run a background check on me.”

 

There was a small pause. Then, [Excuse me?]

 

“Do a background check on me. I told him he couldn’t date anyone without getting a background check from me, you and Natasha.”

 

[Stark, you can’t force yourself on him.]

 

“I’m not going to _force_ myself on him.” Tony snorts, glancing over to Clint, who was still sound asleep. “This is good for him. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll give him the outlet he needs. We don’t need to _actually_ date. He just needs someone to take control for him when we’re kicking back, and I can do that.” Coulson sighs, but tells Tony he’ll get on it and that he’ll have a faxed copy of his approved background check in under one hour.

 

Tony sighs, braces himself, and then asks JARVIS to dial Natasha. Natasha picks up and sounds annoyed and sleepy. Which is not a good sign. “Did I wake you?” He winces.

 

[What do you want?] She snaps, managing to sound deadly and sleepy at the same time.

 

“Sorry, uh. I didn’t know you were asleep, but I need something ASAP. It won’t take long, I promise.” She grunts. “I need you to run a background check on me and, you know, see if you approve.”

 

[Stark, run your own background check. You seriously woke me up for _this_?]

 

“I _am_ running my own background check. I asked Coulson to do one, too. I sort of told Clint he wasn’t allowed to see anyone who didn’t have a background check from Coulson, you and me, so…”

 

He’s interrupted by a loud groan on Natasha’s part, but when she speaks again, her voice is gentler. Sometimes Tony is really jealous of Clint. It must be nice to have the world’s deadliest woman be your best friend. […All right. And you take care of him, Stark, or I’ll kill you.]

 

He doesn’t doubt it, and he doesn’t doubt that she probably _has_ killed some of Clint’s old exes. Thirty minutes later, a file thick enough to make an encyclopedia is sitting at his desk via JARVIS’ printer, signed at the end by Natasha and her loopy cursive.

 

_Tony Stark is an arrogant, cocky prick who has too much money for his own good. But he’s a good guy. I don’t need to read government files to say I trust him. – Natalia Romanova (plus he WILL get me that new Widow’s Bite prototype by the end of this week. Right, Stark?)_

Tony winces. Right. The prototype. Twenty-three more minutes later, JARVIS prints out more papers, this time making a stack enough to make about ten encyclopedias. “Where does Coulson find all this?!” He hasn’t even known there was this much about him. Coulson doesn’t leave a note at the end, just writes _Approved_ in an impossibly neat handwriting. Even his signature is textbook-worthy. If there’s a textbook on how to make a signature, Tony thinks Coulson’s would be on every page. Well, maybe not. He probably doesn’t want his signature all over the place. For all Tony knows, this is one of Coulson’s many fake signatures.

 

He grabs a sheet of blank paper and scrawls a note on it and signs it with flourish, then sinks into the chair next to where Clint’s still breathing evenly, the picture of calm. “JARVIS, I need you to find me someone who’d make me custom sex toys, someone who’s not shady or dirty, and can keep his mouth shut.” JARVIS runs the order and lists about ten names. Tony picks the closest vendor, and a sharp, business-voiced man picks up immediately. “This is Tony Stark.” He introduces himself.

 

[Yes, I know. The machine picked it up. How many I help you today, Mister Stark?]

 

They talk about the privacy contract and everything is signed within ten minutes, and then Tony makes orders. It takes him about an hour and a half to place his order, and he’s assured that he’s going to get everything by the end of the day. “Good job finding the dude, JARVIS.” He says, pleased by the transaction. He looks over the sketches that he’s been provided with. It’s sort of obscene, but Tony can’t really bring himself to care. Plus, he’s _Tony Stark_. He’s the king of wild sex. This isn’t anything he hasn’t done before.

 

It’s about an hour more before Clint stirs and opens a bleary eye. He turns to find Tony. “My ass hurts.” He says.

 

“Well, you let a bastard fuck it. That’s what happens.” He drops the stacks of papers – bound by JARVIS – near Clint’s face. Clint blinks. “Look at it.”

 

Clint takes about five minutes to flip through Natasha’s file – Tony notices he’s good with using his hands even though they’re bound - and then about ten to flip through Coulson’s. “I like your background check.” Clint smiles softly. The single sheet reads, _I am Tony Stark. I approve myself. Done and done! Voila!_ He looks up hesitantly. “You don’t have to do this for me, Tony.” He says softly. “I know I’m a freak.”

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re not a freak.” He says, and scoots over to the bed. “Clint, you’re a top-secret agent. You spend your life making decisions that might affect the peace of the entire Earth. It’s normal for something like this. You want someone to take control of you when it doesn’t matter, so at least you don’t have to spend your willpower deciding, _do I want to eat this hamburger or not?_   You like it when someone is in complete control of you. So what? News flash: There are lots of people like you. And there are lots of people like _me_ , who’s willing to give that kind of dominance and still care about how you feel. I don’t even know how you only managed to pick out bastards.” Clint laughs weakly, his hands coming up to rest on Tony’s thigh. “I want to do this. And it’s not like I’m making a big sacrifice, either. I get a pretty blondie to have as my own. So if you want me to do this for you, I’m all for it. It’s up to you.”

 

Clint considers for a long time, his hands closing and opening on Tony’s thigh, and he manages to smile slowly. “All right. I want to do this.” He speaks as if he’s still unsure. “I like this.” He confesses softly, motioning to the silk collar around his neck. “Will you leave it on me?”

 

Tony smiles. “Yeah. Let’s talk about that now. We have to set ground rules. JARVIS, will you record all this?”

 

“ _Yes, sir.”_

 

“All right, let’s talk what you like and don’t like. You like collars, obviously. How are the hands?”

 

Clint raises an eyebrow. “I can take whatever you dish out at me.”

 

“No, that’s not the way this works. Sure, you can _take_ it all, but I need to know what you _like_. I don’t care if bastards in the past didn’t care about how you felt. I’m going to make sure you _feel good_ when you do this with me.” Tony stares at Clint, and Clint thinks about it for a while before sliding up and resting his head on Tony’s thigh, his tied hands tucked under it. “Think about what you like.”

 

Clint thinks for a while, then speaks quietly. “I like being whipped. Flogged.” Tony nods, and the words write themselves in thin air for Clint. “I like it hard enough so that it leaves marks. But not permanent marks. Just strong enough to leave bruises and marks for two or three days.” Tony nods again and watches the words type out. “I like… I like being restrained.” The confession comes as a sigh. “But ropes hurt.”

 

Tony smirks. “Good, because I ordered velvet lined cuffs.” Clint looks surprised. “I ordered a whole shitload of custom sex toys. But don’t worry about that.”

 

“You knew I was going to accept this?”

 

Tony looks down at Clint, who looks upset. He meets Clint’s desperate eyes, and says softly, sincerely, “No, but I wanted it to be ready if you did accept. If you didn’t I was just gonna sell them on ebay or something.” Clint laughs at this, and Tony figures it’s all good. “Anyway, continue. You like being flogged, which is good, cause I ordered about ten different whips and cat-o-nine-tails. And velvet cuffs, as I said. How do you feel about sex toys? Beads? Dildos? Vibrators?”

 

Clint doesn’t blush as he nods. “Yes.” The word comes out as a soft, satisfied sigh, and Tony smiles. “I like it when… Yeah. One of my exes, he used to make me leave it inside for the day. I liked that.”

 

Tony snickers as he rubs Clint’s neck, massaging it through the silk collar. It’s actually more like a ribbon, and Tony feels like he’s wrapped up a gift for himself. “Good. Okay, we can do that. I have no problem with that. Anything you don’t like?”

 

Clint hesitates for a long while, and Tony kneads his neck softly, encouragingly. Finally, he speaks up. “I don’t like clamps.” He says softly, and Tony watches words scroll in the air and makes mental notes himself. “Pinching and little things like that, I can get off on, but I don’t like… you know. Clamps and pins and stuff.” Tony nods and makes a note to toss out the clamps he’s ordered. Or really put them on ebay. “And… and electricity. I mean, vibrators and toys are okay, but like… shock toys.”

 

“Have you done it before?” Tony’s voice is tight.

 

Clint nods slowly. “Yeah. I… I ended up in the emergency room. I think Natasha killed the guy after that.”

 

Tony lets out a hiss. “Good, because otherwise I think I’d have murder on my hands, and I’m not as good as Natasha is on disposing bodies.” Clint lets out a shaky laugh, and Tony wonders when he started making jokes about disposing bodies. He figures it started when he became teammates with two master assassins. And fell in love with one of them.

 

And he realizes he’s not so hesitant to admit it. He’s in love with Clint Barton. Has been, since the day he saw Clint shoot an arrow into a target’s eye without even looking. Has been, since the electric blue-green-gray eyes landed on him and smiled at him. He knows Clint isn’t ready for something deep yet. He needs someone to take care of him, to own him. And Tony can provide that. And maybe ease into the relationship if Clint will let him. Clint prods him on the stomach. “Let’s talk about what you like.” Clint says, his voice sensual, low. It sends shivers down Tony’s back.

 

“First let’s talk safe words.”

 

“I don’t need them.” Clint cuts in. When Tony tries to protest, he smiles. “Tony. I don’t need them. I don’t want them. I want you to have total control.” He grips Tony’s hand, and snickers. “It’s about you holding the leash. I don’t want any of it.”

 

Tony considers it. And he nods, because he knows Clint is actually strong enough to take everything he can probably dish out, and because he knows Clint actually needs this. Later, later when Clint can wean off of it, Tony will be able to convince Clint of having a safe word. “All right. I’m going to list rules for you, and you tell me right now if you don’t like any of them.” Clint nods. “You’re allowed to train only up to six hours a day. For the rest, I want you to be within five feet of me. You’ll move into my floor, and when we’re in here, you’re not going to be wearing anything. Maybe I’ll let you have something up your ass, but nothing else but that and this collar.” Clint shudders, and Tony smiles because he knows it’s out of anticipation, not fear. “We’re going to tell everyone else what’s going on, and sometime I may invite Thor to join us. Or maybe even convince Steve or Bruce.” He searches Clint’s face for any objections, but all he finds is eager arousal. “I like blowjobs, so you’re going to be on your knees often sucking me off under the table. And when you suck me off, you’re going to swallow.”

 

Clint shudders again. “Oh. _Oh_.”

 

Tony smiles, and he brings Clint up. Clint is a shivering mess from just _talking_ about being dominated, and Tony lets himself smile. “You’re going to keep yourself clean. You know how to clean yourself? I ordered a nozzle for you in the shower.” Clint nods. “Good. Every morning, you’re going to take a shower, and clean yourself out twice. I want you to lube up before you get out of it, and I want you to lube yourself up every three hours unless you’re sleeping. I want you _ready_ to take me whenever I feel like it, understand?”

 

“ _Tony_.”

 

“Last thing. You are _not_ allowed to come unless I permit it.” He lets go a little bit. “But if you really need to, you could try begging. I’m not too mean.”

 

“You’ve done this before.” Clint accuses, slumping against Tony’s chest. He nuzzles the arc reactor.

 

Tony shrugs. “Clint, I’ve tried all sorts of sex before. Of course I’ve done this before. I make a pretty good Dom.”

 

Clint sighs happily. “Yeah.” He brings tied wrists up to curl on Tony’s chest. “You do.” They establish small things – Tony’s clean and Clint is clean, so they decide on bareback. Tony orders more strips of silk so they could use it as substitute for rope, and Tony finds out Clint’s favorite position is to be fucked standing up, which suits Tony just fine, because he loves any position. By the end of it, JARVIS saves the notes. “When do we start?”

 

“Tonight.” Tony promises. “Right now I want you to rest, eat, have your normal day, and at midnight you’ll be in my room, naked, and we’ll start there.” He grips Clint’s hand. Clint smiles and drops his head into Tony’s chest, placing a kiss onto the arc reactor.

 

“You can explain to everyone.” Clint looks up, smirking. “Good luck explaining to Thor and Steve.”


End file.
